


Like lights over the water

by Plumasicera



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Getting Together, M/M, Sasuke’s having problems dealing with his parents death, Slice of Life, Some anxiety because of that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 06:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19847767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plumasicera/pseuds/Plumasicera
Summary: The confession falls like a dead weight between the two. Sasuke notices Naruto’s wet hair and this time he sees a drop of sweat falling down his neck.“I knew” he says, and he feels his mouth dry and his voice hoarse. “I already knew”.





	Like lights over the water

That morning, when Sasuke wakes up, he feels his body terribly heavy.

Light bathes his room with a mild white tint which, alongside silence, creates a sense of peace that extends to the last corner of the room with the softness with which waves reach the shore on a clear day.

He, however, feels as if a hook hung from his stomach and pulled his body to sink him into the ground.

With faked serenity he brings a hand to his face and tries not to think about anything, letting the surrounding calm enter him and force his muscles to relax. He knows he’s making no progress when the stone he feels in his stomach moves up to his chest, so he takes air very slowly, deep, until his lungs can’t hold it anymore and he exhales slowly. The choking feeling doesn’t disappear and he needs long breaths before getting it under control. When he feels able to breathe again he gets up, opens the window and goes into the bathroom, where he spends endless minutes in the shower. The sound of the falling water slowly floods the apartment, the quiet and familiar sound welcoming a new day.

It’s July 13, and a warm, humid summer spreads through the city. An almost nonexistent breeze sneaks through the open window and flaps the curtains. Sunrays, still soft because of the early hour, slide down the wall with a pleasant yellowish color. Some swallows, fragile, pursue each other nimbly in their flight and their trills rise breaking the stillness.

It’s July 13, and a warm, humid summer spreads through the city.

Sasuke leans his forehead against the cold bathroom tiles and lets water fall on his shoulders and slide down his skin. Hair sticks to his face like a black curtain and the falling water swirls at his feet and he can almost pretend it’s any other date and he’s standing under the rain of a dark afternoon.

But today’s July 13, and a warm, humid summer spreads through the city.

July 13, Obon. Festival of the dead.

* * *

Classes pass quickly, or maybe Sasuke’s so focused to avoid thinking about anything else that time runs faster. The campus is half empty when he crosses it with a travel bag on his shoulder. Half of the classes have been suspended for the celebration (like Sakura’s) and some other people have decided to skip on their own (like Naruto), and the absence of students is noticeable. Many, like Sasuke, carry suitcases that talk about returning home and rush out of the campus. He’s carrying only the indispensable: some clothes, some college books and a few other that he wants to return to his brother. It's going to be only three days, and anything else he may need can be found at home.

It's exactly four thirty when Itachi calls, at the exact moment Sasuke’s just closed the front door and is taking his shoes off on the entrance’s step. Although he expected him to call, he’s surprised it’s so timely.

“Hello, Sasuke”.

“Itachi” he greets without any particular intonation. He doesn’t want his voice or any other thing to reveal what’s strangling him inside but, as always, his brother knows.

“How are you?”

Luckily Sasuke’s an expert in not giving explanations.

“I just got home. I took the three o'clock train”.

It’s been a quick trip, a direct route to Yokohama in sixty fleeting minutes over a metal bullet, although if asked, he would say it’s been way less. Two years ago he moved to Tokyo to study at the university and since then he has returned home several times but never, until now, the trip had felt so short and unreal.

“Did you come back alone?”

“Yes” he replies in the same calm register his brother’s using. “Sakura and Shikamaru arrived this morning. Naruto’s been here since yesterday”.

Itachi hums and finally says what Sasuke was really waiting for.

“You don’t have to go, Sasuke”.

Sasuke closes his eyes and inhales; one, two, three seconds, because he still has troubles breathing normally. When he speaks, he does so with a restrained voice.

“I’m going”.

“You don’t owe me anything, Sasuke. Don’t feel like you have the obligation to do it just because I'm not there”.

“It's my decision, Itachi.”

“I know. And it was my decis—”

“Itachi” he interrupts him. He doesn’t want his brother to feel guilty. He doesn’t want him to believe that he is the one forcing Sasuke to do something he doesn’t want to do, even if in a way, he is. “I'm going”.

On the other side of the line there’s only silence— silence and the presence of his brother as if he was there with him.

“Okay” he gives in. “Okay”.

There’s another silent moment and then Itachi speaks again.

“Take care, Sasuke. And if you need anything…”

The words are lost between some air-conditioned building in Kobe and the wooden floor of the hall, where Sasuke has laid his back at some point during the conversation without realizing it. He knows why Itachi’s left an open end there. He knows that he’d like to hear an honest answer from him, that he’s searching for an unguarded fissure through which he’d be able to see how much this is killing Sasuke, but all Sasuke gives off is a sparing farewell before hanging up.

He remains lying there in silence, with a blank mind. He can hear distant sounds, very different from the constant bustle of Tokyo: the furious buzzing of insects under the scorching sun, the muffled sound of a bicycle running down the street, the murmur of the falling evening.

He sits up expressionless. Sasuke’s not the kind of person who postpones things once he’s made a decision and this won’t be an exception.

* * *

The temple’s full of life despite it being such an advanced hour. Elders in traditional clothes, salarymen in suits (Sasuke can’t help but think about Itachi, away on a business trip, who won’t be able to attend to his personal penance for the first time), families with children who grab incense sticks and walk between the tombs.

Sasuke’s only been here once, eight years ago, and he’d fear not being able to find the place if it weren’t for all the times he has walked that same path within his mind, in dreams, like an obsession, the perfect nightmare.

As he approaches he feels the purr in his chest, the hoarse rumble when he starts having trouble breathing and must fight to keep the anxiety under control. Dragonflies take flight as he walks by, orbit around his knees and move away under the metallic reflections the sunrays tear away from their bodies.

The tombstone rises just as he remembers —a leaden shade of gray within a sea of stone tombs. The first thing he does is go through the kanjis engraved on the front under the family name (Fugaku and Mikoto. _Father, mother_ ) and a deep pain increased by shame engulfs him inside out. He doesn’t remember the last time he pronounced their names or the last time he consciously thought of them. Their parents’ death is a taboo subject between him and Itachi, something Sasuke’s not got over yet, something that made twelve-years-old-Sasuke to coldly isolate from the world and to develop a terrible fear of loss.

It takes him a while to realize that the tombstone is too clean, and only when he lowers his eyes to the base to deposit the offerings does he notice the bowl with fresh water and the recent flower resting next to it.

He watches it for a long moment, unable to understand it, dumbfounded— then reality hits him like a slap in the face, and he feels white rage filling his insides and the sucking-abyss that vertigo’s opened.

A single word crosses his mind.

_Naruto_.

* * *

Not far away, at the Inuzukas’s family residence, four boys are gathered around a low wooden table over the tatamis and a fifth one watches with disinterest the mahjong game that is taking place. A placid drowsiness fills the room and cradles them in that undefined point between somnolence and wakefulness.

“It's your turn, Kiba”.

“I'm thinking” he protests, half-heartedly, and receives a ‘you've been thinking for the last ten minutes’ in response. “This game requires concentration. Con-cen-tra-tion”.

It’s nice, this moment of calm and relaxed conversations in the middle of such a well-known, familiar place. To be finally at home, all together again.

“Chōji’s right, play already”.

The old fan spins on the ceiling stirring the scarce warm air that comes in through the wide-open windows. It's close to seven and it's almost completely dark.

“Shut up, Naruto. You wouldn’t know how to develop a strategy even if your life depended on it”.

“He’s won more times than you, though…” says a quiet voice.

“Shino, you're supposed to be my friend” Kiba grunts. He grunts a little more, focused, and then he finally selects one of his tiles to discard. “Okay… Okay, I think that… Yeah. Watch my masterstroke”.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t do that”.

“Shikamaru” Kiba grumbles, and quickly returns the tile to its place in the row. Shikamaru, leaning on the floor on one elbow, fans himself with apathy. It’s been a while since he was banned from playing but that doesn’t stop him from doing his bit every year. The bell rings, and Kiba takes advantage of the interruption to get up and ignore Chōji and Naruto's laughter and Shikamaru's lazy smile.

“Sasuke” he greets with some surprise when he opens the door. “We weren’t expecting you so soon. Come in. The girls haven’t called yet”.

Sasuke doesn’t move, simply stands at the doorstep.

“Is Naruto in?”

“Er… yes, he's inside. Do you want him to come out or…?” Kiba asks, unsure.

“Please”.

Kiba returns to the room, where a new round of laughs echoes in the middle of a light conversation.

“Naruto,” he calls pointing over his shoulder with his thumb “it's Sasuke. He’s asking for you”.

“Sasuke? Why he doesn’t come in?”

Kiba shrugs.

“I dunno. He seems a little… tense” he says, trying to find a word that describes him.

Naruto stays a few seconds on the floor, surprised. He looks at Kiba as if looking for more information.

“Has he said anything?”

“Nothing”.

Naruto leaves the paipai he’s stolen from Shikamaru on the table and gets up, heading for the entrance. He can hear someone asking Kiba if he thinks something’s happened, but Kiba’s answer is a murmur that gets lost between the wooden walls.

Outside he finds almost the same suffocating heat as inside, and Naruto feels the cotton fabric sticking to his skin. Sasuke’s figure is silhouetted against the darkness, his back turned to him, and Naruto closes the door gently because he senses that they’ll need some privacy for the upcoming conversation, whatever it may be.

“Sasuke?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Naruto's back hits the door. Sasuke’s hand presses hard against his chest and cuts his breath.

“What th—?”

“You had no right!”

“Sasuk—”

“You had _no fucking right_!” His free hand crashes into a fist against the door with each word, striking angrily just three inches away from Naruto's face. Understanding shines in the blue gaze, and his limpid eyes sees through him without trouble.

“I’m not sorry” he says, confident and unchanging, and that security rekindles the convulsed swell of emotions that moves Sasuke. He grits his teeth with his hand trembling on Naruto's neck, heat burning his insides, and his fist’s ready to strike again, maybe this time to Naruto, but before anything happens the door opens with a creak and Naruto clings instinctively into his arm to keep him from falling.

“Hey, guys… Is everything okay?”

Despite the plural Chōji's gaze lands on Naruto, questioning. Sasuke releases him without a word, silent and somber in the middle of the darkness and it’s Naruto who, after readjusting his yukata, answers him without taking his eyes off Sasuke.

“It’s okay, Chōji. Everything’s fine”.

The tone is firm but Chōji hesitates. His eyes go from one to another and it’s obvious he’s detected the tension hanging between them, much more revealing in Sasuke’s body but still present in them both. He fidgets, without moving, and the situation’s about to become really uncomfortable when Shikamaru appears at his side.

“Come on, Chōji” he says, barely holding back a yawn. “It's your turn.”

His eyes meet Sasuke’s, which he silently analyzes, and then he slaps his friend on the back.

“Leave them alone” he insists. “They'll be fine”.

Five seconds and one last uneasy look after that, the amber glow that illuminates Sasuke's face dwindles until it becomes a thin vertical line and finally disappears when Chōji closes the door. Sasuke shakes his head, turns around and descends the three steps of the entrance before sitting on the last one and resting his elbows on his knees. With a sigh, he rubs a tired hand over his forehead and removes the hair from his face.

It has taken all his self-control not to beat the shit out of Naruto. The effort to restrain himself has left him exhausted but, above all, he feels exposed. Deceived, furious, disgusted but, above all, exposed. He doesn’t know how long Naruto’s been doing it, but he feels like throwing up at the feeling of having such a personal part of him so violently invaded.

Subtle, barely discernible above the incessant chirping of the crickets, he hears the cloth sole of Naruto’s shoes sliding over the pavement. A moment later he can feel him standing behind him. It still takes Naruto two or three long minutes before he sits next to him —probably giving him time to calm down.

“Since when?” Sasuke asks at last with a sigh that doesn’t disrupt the stillness of the night. He still has his hand over his eyes and doesn’t know if Naruto’s looking at him. He thinks he is.

“Since I knew you didn’t do it”.

The answer comes to him in a whisper, as if there was something that could be broken if Naruto raised his voice. Sasuke sighs against his wrist and twists his head slightly in Naruto’s direction pressing his eyelids with his fingers as he counts.

Five. Five or six years, probably. Maybe more, if Naruto knew before Sasuke answered Sakura’s shy question, so long ago, about his parents.

Something warm and viscous writhes in his stomach at the thought, pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. There’s something too intimate within the idea of Naruto going every year to pay homage to his dead, in Naruto kneeling where he should have been, in Naruto quietly taking care of what he hasn’t been able to do and Sasuke doesn’t know how to feel about it.

_It’s Naruto_ , says a part of him in silence, and it’s precisely the awareness that it’s him what makes everything so confusing and difficult. Sasuke’s completely sure that if it was any other person he would have no mixed feelings.

With a slow movement he withdraws the hand from his face and they watch each other closely. Maybe it’s because of the silence, but suddenly the crickets seem to sing stronger than before on that summer night.

“Why?” he asks in a low voice.

It sounds infinitely better than his aggressive _who the fuck do you think you are_ , but in any case Naruto doesn’t answer. Sasuke considers for a few moments the possibility that he hasn’t heard him, but then dismisses it. It's impossible he didn’t hear him. They are so close that he feels Naruto’s breathing in his face, hot as hell but still welcomed in that torrid night in which any breeze, no matter how warm or light it is, seems to lighten the atmosphere. A drop of sweat slides down Naruto’s temple until it hangs from his jaw, slowly. And then, he speaks.

“One year I waited at the end of your street until I saw your brother leaving your house. He didn’t notice me, not at that moment, not at any other. At least I didn’t think he noticed. Maybe he did but he didn’t say anything. What could he have said? Although, on the other hand, why would he shut up? I was just a stupid brat following him from thirty steps away”.

He stops, and Sasuke doesn’t know if it’s because he’s going to add something that he ends up not saying or because, simply, he’s reliving the image.

“At that time it didn’t occur to me that he could have being heading anywhere else, I just followed him. I wouldn’t have minded having to follow him around the city; I was determined to have my way. And I was lucky. Then… I left him alone while he was paying his respects. It was crowded, so it was easy to kneel elsewhere and go unnoticed. He left shortly after. I just needed to know the exact place”.

Sasuke closes his eyes and sighs to himself. His voice is steel when he speaks again.

“Answer the question” he orders. “ _Why_ , Naruto”.

The hint of a mocking smile crosses Naruto’s face at Sasuke’s dryness, or maybe for a moment Naruto thought he would be able to dodge the question, who knows. Sasuke can’t decipher the ethereal gesture that dies before it’s even born the same way he can’t read the suddenly impenetrable eyes of Naruto. His pupils have dilated due to the darkness leaving only a narrow blue ring around a black abyss. He doesn’t look like himself, and that makes it even more disturbing.

“Why?” Naruto asks himself slowly, thoughtfully. “Why…”

Naruto’s silent, illegible, and all of a sudden, without warning, as if he had just reached an internal resolution the mocking grin returns, this time unhindered, and a sly smile stretches across his lips, a smile Sasuke knows he uses to defend himself rather than attacking, but he doesn’t have the time to deepen the thought because suddenly Naruto is talking, spitting everything out and it’s too much information to pay attention to anything else.

“Because I want to. Because your brother asked me to do it. Because I know you’d never ask. Because I’ve never done it and we’re not having this conversation at all”.

“What a—?

“Because. Just because. Because I’m an idiot. Because you’re a coward full of fear and I’m disappointed when I think that you, of all people, don’t have the courage to do it”.

Like a spring Sasuke’s hand rushes forward and grabs Naruto by the hem of his yukata, but Naruto doesn’t bat an eye and keeps talking, looking into his eyes still with that insolent smile on his lips.

“I do it for me. I do it because I think they deserve it. Because I was a kid that didn’t know what he was doing and since then I feel that going is the only way to redeem myself for invading your privacy. Because I can. Because I have no parents to honor and doing it for you erases an emptiness that I’ve never been able to fill. Because I’m your best friend, and you’d do the same for me. Because that’s just who I am and, honestly, I’d do the same for anybody”.

There is a short pause that seems to presage a terrible ending. The smile widens and somehow Naruto seems to enjoy the agonizing seconds of silence that precede his next words. Suddenly Sasuke realizes that he already knows what Naruto’s going to say and he’s not sure whether he wants to hear it or not. Before he can make a decision Naruto smiles even more and lets the words out, almost carelessly.

“Because I love you”.

The confession falls like a dead weight between the two. Sasuke notices Naruto’s wet hair and this time he sees a drop of sweat falling down his neck. The night and the heat spread between them while, silent, moths flutter around the streetlamps.

“I knew” he says, and he feels his mouth dry and his voice hoarse. “I already knew”.

Of course he knew. It was so obvious, and since so long ago, that Sasuke’d learned to live with it as the natural step within their relationship. They had been friends for so long and in that way that was so theirs, so strange and ultimately lonely, that it seemed evident that they couldn’t have ended in any other way.

“I know” Naruto strikes back like the echo of a not-so-old rivalry. He doesn’t say that he also knows that Sasuke loves him, but it’s not necessary. They have both known it for too long and there’no way they can deceive themselves now.

Sasuke realizes that he’s been staring at the point on his neck where the drop of sweat has merged with the dark blue fabric (or is it gray? It's hard to tell under the dim light) when suddenly the door opens and Kiba pokes his head out.

“Naruto, Sasuke” he calls, and picks up his phone in the air, somewhat apologetically. “Ino’s called, they are already at the fair”.

Sasuke stands up, and feels Naruto imitating him a few seconds later. Kiba eyes him up and down.

“Are you going to change?” He asks.

Sasuke looks at his clothes and remembers the yukata he has left ready before leaving home.

“No” he says after considering it. “It doesn’t matter”.

Kiba nods and calls the rest; it’s obvious they’re all ready to go and that they’ve waited to the last minute to warn them and not interrupt their conversation. Sasuke knows that this is the moment to talk, that Naruto’s waiting, that he must say something but—

He just keeps quiet.

Behind him he hears Naruto’s voice before he passes by without looking back.

“Whatever suits you the best”.

* * *

The festival’s passed normally, exactly as in previous years. Chōji’s eaten at all the food stalls they’ve come across and Shikamaru has protested every time he’s had to get up and move. Naruto, Kiba, Ino and Sakura have competed in different game booths and Kiba’s got a small goldfish for Hinata. He has also complained about how all the girls fall in love with ‘those damn Uchiha genes’ ( _and this year he’s not even wearing a yukata!_ ) and Shino’s accompanied them with that customary silence of his that only Hinata has the ability to break.

Now it’s almost eleven o'clock and they’re all bunched together on the hill they always go to, the one with the best view over the bay.

All of them except for Sasuke.

“Have you seen Sasuke-kun?”

Sakura’s climbed with difficulty to stand at his side, and Naruto shakes his head as he moves away to make room for her at a stable spot in the grass.

“We run into one of his cousins. He must have stayed back with him” he replies indifferently. He thinks it was Shisui, but he couldn’t say for sure.

“No, I saw them when they were saying goodbye. I think Sasuke-kun’s alone and it’s been two hours now since then” Sakura says worriedly. It only took her one look to know that something was wrong with him (with _them_ ), but until now she’s had no chance to ask.

“He’ll be fine” Naruto answers curtly.

“Bu—”

“If he wants to come back, he’ll come back” he cuts her. “That’s how it works, right? He leaves and we wait. We always wait”.

Sakura looks at him and Naruto feels his face blush when he realizes he’s shown his bitterness a little bit too openly. Luckily it’s just Sakura. You can _always_ trust Sakura.

“He’ll come back” she says, understanding. “Sasuke-kun always comes back. And you will always wait for him”.

Naruto gives her a slightly shy smile, and she corresponds with one of complicity. A light rises above them, high in the sky, and explodes in a burst of color that prompts sounds of admiration. That one is followed by a second one, and the second one by a third, and soon fireworks dominate the sky dazzling and bright. The water, like a calm mirror, reflects them.

“Hurry up, Sakura! Before it’s over!”

Below them Ino screams and moves an arm in the air. She’s holding a phone in her hand and Hinata waits at her side to take a selfie together with the bay in the background. Sakura gives him one last smile of encouragement and begins to descend with short steps because of the restriction of the yukata. Fireworks illuminate her figure intermittently when they explode, and Naruto sees the rest of his friends below him. Shikamaru’s lain down and watches placidly the show in the sky with Chōji and Kiba sitting next to him. Shino’s standing not far away, and Ino keeps urging Sakura over the explosions.

“Come on, forehead girl! We don’t have all day!”

“Tsk, don’t yell at me Ino-pig!”

He feels a presence behind him and then Sasuke rests his forehead against the back of his head. The first thing Naruto thinks is that Sakura was right. Sasuke _always_ come back. The second thing he notices is that Sasuke’s _really_ there, and so he remains terribly still, waiting.

“I’m sorry” he hears him murmuring softly in his ear.

Naruto hesitates to turn around in fear of scaring him, or scaring himself, but Sasuke seems to decide for him when he takes a step back and then Naruto’s turning, his impulsive nature taking over. A thousand emotions shiver through him when his gaze meets Sasuke’s; they run down his throat in a way that’s almost painful and then go down his chest leaving behind a trail that ignites his lungs and make them burn.

“What’s up with that face, usuratonkachi” Sasuke says with a lopsided smile, although Naruto can’t hear a single word with all the noise.

Sasuke’s face lights up like a film played frame by frame: red, blue, blue, green, flashes in the darkness following the beat of the fireworks and Naruto sees him approaching, closer and closer until he’s kissing him, and he doesn’t know in what moment he’s reached him but damn if he cares.

Sasuke’s hot. Sasuke’s mouth is hot, and so is his tongue, and his breath, his hands on his hips are hot and if it’s like this, Naruto doesn’t mind melting away.

They kiss under the amplitude of the unattainable sky, oblivious to the incredible show of light and color, joy and life. They kiss, and there’s nothing else. Neither their friends just a few steps away, nor loneliness, nor fears, nor doubts. Just the two of them, finding themselves in each other and acknowledging something that has always been there.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
